


Extremity

by Phoenix_Emrys



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_Emrys/pseuds/Phoenix_Emrys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desperate events evoke desperate emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thanks to Biblio for holding my hand through this thing. And for helpig me to see what needed to be done to make it (hopefully) come out right. Oh, and I take NO responsibility for Jack's inspired extemporization on the subject of cuppage. I just added Daniel's reaction. The rest is all Biblio's fault.

Oh my God, I don't think we're going to make it this time. 

I flinch back from the searing beam of light shearing past the side of my face.  It slams into the wall I've been crouching against and I barely manage to throw myself clear of the lethal shower of razor sharp stone fragments  erupting from the impact.  Jack doesn't look at me, doesn't even stop firing as he quickly reaches forward, grabs a fistful of my jacket and hauls me back against what's left of the wall we both managed to fling ourselves behind before all hell literally broke loose. 

Sam's P-90 is angrily chattering from behind the tattered remnants of a badly crumbling building on the other side of the wide avenue to the gate.  Teal'c's staff weapon whooshes and the side of the truncated tower housing the energy weapon pinning us down and methodically decimating our cover with surgical, inexorable precision explodes, raining down huge chunks of rock on the knot of slowly shuffling soldiers far beneath.  Jack's jaw tightens momentarily at the sight and he briefly ceases firing, fumbling for a fresh magazine after discarding the spent one.  With a small shudder he pushes the horror away, slams in the magazine and squeezes off another burst of rapid fire as yet another wave of staring, uniformed human automatons comes surging toward us.  They move slowly and deliberately, firing their hand-held versions of the tower energy weapon at us, their eyes blank and staring, soulless pits in their young, expressionless faces. They march uncaringly forward, their movements so precise and co-ordinated they seem to have but one driving imperative between them as they step over the mangled, unmoving carpet of the corpses already littering the avenue and stride heedless, straight into our fire. They don't even blink as the bullets tear into them and they topple soundlessly upon all the bodies of their fallen fellows. 

My God, they're children.  Somehow they've been changed into these mindless killing machines, but they look like children.  I haven't seen one blank face that looks any older than thirteen.  Maybe it's on purpose, their appearance is a deliberate psychological ploy devised by the architect of this abomination to gain a sick, tactical advantage; a cold calculation anyone encountering these 'mini-soldiers' would balk at the idea of shooting children. If that was the case, it's a damned effective tactic. When we did first see them, for an instant - we - we couldn't.  Couldn't bring ourselves to defend ourselves. Reticence which could have been fatal.  If our instincts for survival hadn't been so highly honed after four years together out here...  But we got past it - fast.  We had no choice. We opened fire.  God, what a choice! Even if it seems only the bodies are present and there is no independent mind residing in the 'machines', still, every time one of them falls... 

Don't think about what they look like, they're not real, not really alive - can't be.... they're not crying, screaming, not struggling to get up - just walking, falling, dying without a sound.  Not so much as a whimper.  Real children cry... they only LOOK like children but they're not, we're not killing children. 

I can't see Jack's eyes, but I don't need to. I know this has to be killing him - to have to be killing them.  It doesn't matter we don't have any choice.  It's them or us.  What we're having to do to defend ourselves - it's utterly horrifying.  We've got no choice.  They won't stop firing at us, they won't listen and they won't - they won't stop coming. No matter how many we kill, they just keep coming, and we have to keep on killing them.  Children.  We're slaughtering children. 

We can't stay here much longer.  If that energy weapon in the tower keeps on whittling away the bits and pieces of the walls we're all trying to cover behind with such ruthless and alarmingly rapid efficiency we'll soon all be completely exposed and vulnerable.  Very, very soon. Easy pickings for the big gun.  Even if we somehow manage to avoid getting taken out by the aerial defences the relentless ground troops are just going to keep on coming until we run out of ammunition and then they will kill us. 

We don't know why.  There was no indication of any danger when the MALP surveyed the area.  We had no idea the tower was a weapons platform defending the gate, or that there were transportation platforms all around it capable of delivering what seems to be an endless supply of zombie defenders.  We'd barely arrived here, had just started to walk toward the tower when suddenly the energy weapon on high started to fire at us and the first wave of troops 'appeared' and damned if they weren't all trying to kill us too. 

It's only been minutes since we all dove for cover, barely in the nick of time, and already we've levelled dozens.  They keep on coming and they're going to completely overrun us soon if we don't get the hell out of here now.  That is if we don't run out of chunks of rock to cower behind and get vaporized by the laser fire first. 

The DHD is several hundred yards behind us.  So far none of the blasts from the tower have gone anywhere near it so it could be beyond the range of the gun, but we don't know that for sure.  Not that knowing the range of the weapon is going to be much help.  What it can target and blast to pieces from here to the DHD is more the immediate issue, as in 'getting from point A to point B without getting pointillized'. 

Someone has to make the trip from where we all are to where the DHD is.  By running down that nice, wide, completely exposed avenue, every inch of which is still well within frying range of the tower.  And they have to run the gauntlet and arrive at the DHD able to dial home and send the GDO code so all of us can haul ass.  There is zero margin for error here.  If that 'someone' doesn't make it, it's probably going to mean no one else will be making it home either.  The way the walls are being sliced away and we're expending our ammo holding the troops at bay there won't be time for another attempt. 

I know darned well who that someone has to be.  Not only am I the fastest runner, but tactically I'm the least useful of all of us for defending our positions and providing cover for the others.  A 9-mm pistol versus two P-90s and a staff weapon?  No contest there.  It has to be me.  I know it, and Jack knows I know it. 

The tower is all I have to worry about.  The advancing wave of automatons has been steadily firing as relentlessly as they've been moving forward, but we do know the range of their weapons. Firing from the point where Jack and Sam are managing to hold then back, their shots are striking just short of our current position.  Which means if we can hold that line just a little longer, as soon as I'm up and out of here the little guns won't be able to touch me. 

That privilege will be solely reserved for the big one.  Peachy. 

It's time to go.  Jack grabs a grenade, signals to Teal'c to concentrate his fire on the tower while he directs Sam to focus on the ground force shuffling inexorably toward us.  He's going to try and take out the transport platforms.  They've just delivered another batch of uniformed, dead-eyed children who start moving and firing as soon as they wink into existence. No mind, no will, no finesse.  Just literal walking cannon fodder.  They'll keep coming and dying, with more to replace them until we've got nothing left to kill them with, eventually overwhelming us through sheer, inevitable, cold-blooded logistics. 

"Scoot as soon as it goes off," Jack grunts urgently at me as he pulls the pin and surges up to hurl the grenade.  He throws himself back down behind what's left of our wall, barely avoiding the blast from the tower almost taking his head off.   The first grenade hasn't even landed yet and he's already groping in his vest for another one.  Our eyes follow the small, arcing explosive, tracking, waiting for it to fall, for it to.... 

"GO!"  he hollers as the ground rocks beneath us with the force of the blast.  My heart is pounding, terror galvanizing my limbs as the adrenaline rush fires me out from behind the wall for the most desperate race I've ever had to run.  The roar of my teammate's covering fire rends the air behind me as I start to sprint madly for the DHD; a ground-heaving explosion behind me almost drops me in my tracks.  Jack's thrown another grenade, taken out the second platform. Two down, a lot more to go. 

I don't dare look back, I just try to keep my head low and still attached to my shoulders while I run as if my life depended on it.  God, that's funny, Jackson. I'm doing my best imitation of the Flash, trying to cover what seems like miles between me and the DHD in the shortest time possible.  It's only a couple of hundred yards, but try running it with a bulls-eye painted on your back and your heart about to leap out of your throat waiting for the bolt from the blue that'll fry you on the spot.  My lungs are bursting, my legs aching with the speed I'm forcing out of them.  Stark, raving terror is a good motivator, I'm discovering.  There isn't an Olympic sprinter could touch my dust at the moment. I'm making tracks.  I've also become the main target of the big gun which means I'd better start ducking, dodging and weaving - like - like NOW!  Missed me!  Ooops, fake to the right, SHIT! I think that one parted my hair it was so close.  Hard left, go, go, GO!  Woah, good recovery time, wish it would give ME some! 

The way that gun is popping off at me now it can't be bothering with the rest of the team.  I'd be a little happier for them but can't really spare the - busy, really busy right now!  Ass hanging out to dry here - moving it so I don't lose it. 

I've done so much dodging I'm making myself seasick but somehow I'm managing to stay just one step ahead of the searing bolts impacting all around me.  Some of them have been so close I can feel the heat of them scoring across my skin as they knife through the air all around me.  Close.  Way too close.   If just one hits me I'm dead.  I wonder if I'll feel it, if I'll know when it gets me, if it'll hurt...for just that split second when it hits, before I... 

There's the DHD, just a few more feet in front of me. Almost there! I don't know why, but all of a sudden I feel like I have to - DIVE!  I push off, launch myself into air, hurling my body at the DHD.  The bolt strikes the ground I was occupying a split second later. The concussion wave from the blast gives me some unexpected momentum and I smash into the ground beside the DHD a little more emphatically than I intended, sliding a fair piece across the flagstones.  Wow! There goes most of the skin from my left side.  NOT going to be pretty.  Smarts!  But not as much as it would have if that bolt had gotten me.  That - that would have really hurt! 

Head is swimming, wind knocked out of me, side is screaming, get over it, get moving, get up, not out of the woods yet. I roll over, desperately gasping, frantically scrambling to my hands and knees, trying to crawl behind the DHD before the gun fires again. I try to suck some air into my bruised and battered chest as I draw myself up into a tight ball behind the base, frankly cowering behind its meagre protection. It's all I've got.  The DHD is completely exposed, out in the open.  There's nowhere else to hide, but it doesn't matter now.  I'm here.  I made it. Even better, all of me made it.  I'm gonna need a change of underwear, but I'm all in once piece. More or less. Hot damn.  I just need a second to catch my breath to stop - to stop shaking.  I can hear the big gun is still firing at me, but the sounds of its explosive strikes are all behind me.  None of the bolts seem to be reaching as far as the DHD. Hopefully that means I'm out of range, and they aren't just waiting for me to pop my head up so they can catch the one that got away and cook me in the middle of dialling. 

I sneak a quick peek around the pedestal to visually confirm what my ears are telling me.  The energy bolts are futilely strafing the path in a precise line across the avenue three feet away from the DHD.  So near and yet so far.  It looks like they can't reach any further.  I guess whoever designed the defences didn't want to take the chance they'd damage the device they were trying to protect.  Lucky for us.  I hope.  God, I hope so. 

Every instinct for self-preservation in my body is screaming at me not to move, to just stay huddled in this little ball behind the DHD, but I can't.  Have to, have to make myself get up.  I've got a job to do.  I made it.  I've got to open the gate.  The sound of gunfire and the answering whine of the energy weapons batters into my awareness, cutting through the numbness, bringing me back to the urgent need to MOVE.  Get up, do it.  Do it NOW. 

My hand is slamming down on the centre crystal.  I'm hunched over the DHD and I have no idea how I got here. I have no memory of getting up, of dialling.  As the gate boils into life behind me I have to look down at the chevrons I've hit to verify I've actually dialled the correct address.  Wow.  I have.  I slump back down behind the DHD, fingers fumbling with my GDO.  Send the code, send the code.  Send the right one.  Oh God, don't screw this up. 

Got it, sent it.  We can go home now. 

"Jack!"  I yell at him.  His head whips around at the sound of my voice.  He sees the gate, sees I'm clear.  Sees the way home like a beacon of hope blazing for all of us.  His eyes are a terrible mixture of relief and anguish.  I shift my gaze away from him and gape back down the avenue I've just hotfooted it along.  It's a mess.  The flagstones are pitted and scarred with gaping impact craters and chunks of shattered stone are strewn all over the place.  When I see the actual number of pot shots that tower took at me I can't believe I'm still alive.  Talk about beating the odds.  But what all those misses have done to the avenue -  God, just look at it - you could drop Texas into the crater over there!  All those holes and heaps of erupted stone have turned the approach into an obstacle course.  I had a nice flat surface to negotiate, with room for manoeuvre -  how are the others supposed to move fast enough - over THIS?  This - isn't good.  This isn't good at all. 

I look down a little further, trying to find out how the rest of my team is doing, and what I see makes me sick all over again. It's - it's absolute carnage.  The avenue between the platforms and the point where Jack, Sam and Teal'c are barely repelling the advance is knee deep with bloodied, unmoving bodies and they're still - they're still coming.  Jack has managed to destroy several of the platforms but not all of them.  And that fucking tower has taken a beating from Teal'c's staff weapon but the energy bolts are still spitting out of it with an unrelenting vengeance.  I don't know what the damned gun is made of, but whatever it is, we haven't managed to put a dent in it. 

The infant army is proving to be not quite as invulnerable, however.  Which is the only reason why any of us are still alive. 

So many bodies.  Oh God, so many of them.  And they're still coming. 

"GO!"  Jack howls at me as he gestures across to Sam to make a run for the gate.  I'm in the clear.  I can go.  All I have to do is just get up and run.  Throw myself through the gate to safety.  I've done my part.  Jack's told me to go. 

But - I can't.  I can't leave them.  They still all have to run that gauntlet.  It's not like I can help them while they do it.  There's nothing I can do to keep them safe.  I might as well throw my pistol at the troops for all the good it would do at this range, never mind the gun in the tower.  I should do what Jack told me.  Get my ass through the gate.  Then I'd be one less person for him to worry about.  But I can't - I can't just leave them.  They might need me yet, there might be SOMETHING I can still do to help. 

"Daniel!    Get the hell out of here!  NOW!" Jack shrieks at me again. 

No.  Sorry, Jack, I'm not leaving you behind. You can chew me out later, and I'm sure you will, but I'm staying. 

Sam starts her run. Teal'c is doing his best to draw the fire from the tower and Jack's salvos continue to rip into the shuffling mass on the ground.  Probably exactly the same way they tried to cover me.  She's moving the same  way I did - side to side, not a straight line. Trying to confuse whatever targeting mechanism the weapon is using to get a bead on her.  While also trying to avoid falling into the holes and tripping over obstacles I didn't have to contend with. Slow, too slow, she's too fucking SLOW! The condition of the avenue is slowing her down.  SHIT!  Oh God, she's not as fast as I am to START with, she's not changing direction quickly enough, she can't move as freely, it's tracking her, the shots are coming closer, coming too close. 

"SAM!  Move, move, MOVE!" I scream.  "SAM!" 

Not going to make it she's not going to make it.  I'm on my feet, tearing toward her, waving my arms, I have to do something \- anything - ME!  Look at me!  Another target here!  Not her!  Shoot at me! You missed me before - here's your chance to get me now! 

Teal'c is desperately blasting away at the tower while Jack ceases firing at the ground force long enough to lob another grenade straight into the gaping hole in the side where the bolts are coming from. They're hitting it with everything they've got in a desperate attempt to take out the gun before.... A staff weapon blast and the exploding grenade chew through the stubborn structure almost at the same time but not soon enough. The gun fires again, the resulting flash is so close it almost blinds me when it hits. Sam makes a horrible grunting sound as the bolt slams into her back and flings her to the ground.  She thuds sickeningly into the hard stones right at my feet and doesn't move as I throw myself down beside her, grab her limp body and roll her roughly aside before the next bolt rips into her again.  The explosion throws both of us several feet back and showers us with stinging shards of rock.  I feel one slice across my cheek and my left shoulder is going to be a little shredded \- hey it'll match my side, then - but I ignore it and throw myself on top of her managing to shield her from most of the shrapnel.  I actually welcome the pain, it distracts me from the sickening smell of seared flesh filling my mind with terror. 

I have to get up, start running again. Somehow the gun is still firing, but Jack and Teal'c's last attack must have damaged it. Finally!  It seems to be taking longer between blasts and they're not as controlled. It's still firing, but the shots are erratic and they've lost some of their 'oomph'.  Geez, I think we finally caught a break, here.  Whatever, quit lying around here slacking off, Daniel, get up, get up, never mind anything else, team mate down, we're still exposed, in danger, out in the open. Get up, move, keep moving, don't stop. Get Sam to safety.  Have to keep her safe.  Have to get her home.  No one else here, only me. Have to do this. She's counting on me. 

I scoop her into my arms and stagger to my feet. I know I should probably put her across my shoulders - she'd be easier to carry, I could move faster, but laying across my back she'd be vulnerable, more exposed to fire than me - a target.  I can't let her take another hit. Maybe keeping my body between her and the incoming fire will slow me down, but better it should hit me than her. That way I'll be able to protect her, even if I'm dead I'll be a shield until Jack or Teal'c...  An energy bolt whines past my arm so close it scorches my sleeve and sends me reeling off to the side.  I stumble drunkenly for several steps, almost dropping Sam and crashing to my knees before I get my balance again and resume running.  I have to get us past the DHD.  We'll be safe, then. 

Okay, this running stuff, not so easy this time.  Not simply because of the extra weight I'm carrying.  Sprinting  across the lunar surface would be easier. I'm dodging and bounding and weaving and praying, thanking whoever's listening the gun's not as good as it used to be but trying to make myself go just a little bit faster all the same.  Oh, and to not fall down. My legs feel like lead, the muscles are screaming as I force them to serve me yet again.  Sam's head is banging limply against my chest.  I try not to look at her face, it's scaring me, it's so slack and pale, streaked with dirt and an alarming ribbon of red.  Blood. Hers or mine.  I don't know.  No time to check.  Can't stop. 

My arms are trembling, lungs shrieking, my legs feel like rubber, my breath is harsh and rasping in my chest.  Which feels like it's about to explode.  I can barely breathe, I'm not quite sure how I'm managing to make my legs work, the gate is looming in front of me, wavering and flickering enticingly before my dancing vision. 

What the hell is this?  I must have been in such a hurry to get to Sam before I just - got over it to get to her, but now I've got what looks like the Grand Canyon of a trench three feet in front of the DHD to hurdle.  Must have been dug by that last salvo that couldn't reach me. Super.  My body will hate me in the morning for what I'm about to force it to do, but I'm going to have to jump over this.  Somehow. 

Hold on Sam, I'll try not to fall in. 

Oh God, that hurt.  That really hurt.  Bad landing. Left knee.  Ow.  Felt something pop.  I'll worry about it later.  Have to keep moving. 

Past the DHD.  Made it.  We made it.  I can - I can slow down a little.  Not stop.  I won't stop.  Keep moving. 

I stumble forward, my knees almost on the point of buckling beneath me.  No.  Not yet. Can't fall down yet.  I still have to bring Sam through.  Help.  She needs help.  We're almost there. 

I can't help it.  I have to look back.  Jack has stopped shooting, for just an instant.  Watching us, making sure we make it to the gate okay.  I can't see his face very well from here, but I know he's coming next, he'll be right behind us.  I know he will. Both him and Teal'c.  Whatever it takes, Jack will be right behind us. 

I clutch Sam a little tighter to me and plunge into the event horizon. 

Sam is a limp, lifeless weight in my arms as I stumble down the ramp.  I - I don't even know if she's still alive.  There wasn't time to check.  No time.  Someone is screaming for a doctor.  I don't realise it's me until I feel hands on me, trying to pry my hands off Sam, to take her out of my arms. Oh yeah.  I can let go now.  They'll look after her.  I can trust them to do that. 

Alive.  She's alive.  Hurt, she's hurt bad, but she's alive.  Thank God. 

More hands on me now, leading me down the ramp, trying to make me lie down on a stretcher.  I shrug them off.  Leave me alone! I don't want to go anywhere; don't take me away, not yet.  My eyes are riveted to the glowing event horizon.  Just leave me alone for a bit.  Don't make me leave before Jack comes through.  I have to wait for him, have to know he's okay. 

It's taking too long, taking too long.  Where are they?  General Hammond is beside me.  He's talking to me, saying something, but I can't make it out, it all sounds like gibberish, I'm not really listening - they're coming, I try to tell him they're coming and I hope he understands me, but I sound like a babbling, hysterical lunatic.  Jack's right behind me, I know he is, just give them a minute, I know they're coming.  Leave me alone, I'm not in shock, I'm fine.  I'm not leaving - not going anywhere until.... 

God, oh God!  There they are!  Both of them!  Shooting out of the puddle at a dead run, screaming up at Davis to close the iris and shut down the gate.  Jack looks okay as he thunders down the ramp and grabs me by the shoulders.  "Get your ass in that stretcher NOW!"  he hollers at me as he shakes me and squeezes my arms so tightly it's starting to hurt a little. 

That's okay.  I don't mind.  He's okay.  He's safe.  They can string me up by my heels naked and hang me from the top of the gate, I don't give a damn.  Whatever.  He's safe. He made it back.  We all made it back.  All of us. 

  

* * *

Sam's been in surgery for...well, I don't know how long it's been.  I know what it feels like, though, it feels like forever.  No one is telling us anything, but as long as they're still working on her that's - that's good, right?  Means she's still alive. 

She's still alive. 

We're all of us here, in the infirmary, waiting.  We'll stay here as long as it takes - we're not going anywhere until we know Sam's okay. And she is - she is going to be okay.  Not if.  When.  When. 

I'm still sitting in the first chair I found once the nurse had finished with me.  It was no big deal, barely even worth bothering about.  Just a few superficial cuts and scratches, a scrape or two - I've gotten worse from getting caught in a horde of demented shoppers in full Boxing Day feeding frenzy. She dug a few stone chips out of my arm, gave me a couple of stitches, cleaned the abrasions on my left side, then bandages, the usual rabies, distemper shots.  Whoop de do. 

Jack and Teal'c have stuck to me like glue the whole time, and now they're right here, one on either side of me.  Taciturn bookends.  I'd say I feel like a rose between two thorns but that would be weird. 

Teal'c is solemnly stationed on my right.  Jack is on my other side, slouched up against the examining table behind us.  He's staying pretty close.  If he was any closer we'd both be occupying the same space. It's very comforting, feeling him next to me.   He hasn't broken the contact since I sat down.  The warm, vital nearness of his hard thigh pressing against my shoulder and the length of my upper arm is incredibly reassuring.  I don't know how he knows how much - how much I need him so close right now.  It's been so long since he touched me this way.  He used to.  Used to touch me all the time.  Pats on the shoulder.  Slaps on the back.  Sometimes....hugs.  Used to, but he doesn't.  Not any more.  Not for a long time. 

He's here now, though. With me. Arms folded across his chest, pressed up close to me.  It's all I can do to stop myself from leaning into him, letting go, letting him hold me up.  We almost didn't make it.  I still can't quite believe what happened today.  It was bad.  Neither Jack nor Teal'c have said a word about what they had to do to make it home.  We're not talking at all.  None of us.  Just sitting, waiting, trying to deal with having a walk in the park turn into a tour through a charnel house, just like that.  Waiting to find out if we all are going to walk away from this.  Eventually. 

Jack shifts his weight slightly, pressing more firmly against me.  He's as taut as an over-taxed steel cable starting to fray from the stress of a too-heavy load.  Still he's here, letting me know he's alive.  I couldn't be more certain of his solid reality as his warm strength seeps into me. 

I need to feel how substantial he is. How very alive.  I almost lost Jack today.  Lost Teal'c.  We still don't know about Sam.  Sam...while I was running all I could think about was getting her to safety and yet there was a part of me...I felt like I left a piece of myself with Jack, ripped out when I had to go without him, and I didn't get it back until I saw him hurtling through the event horizon.  I'm glad Teal'c made it too, but God help me, while I was waiting all I could think about was Jack.  What if he didn't - I'd done everything I could and yet, if he'd died out there, so far away... 

Oh God, the whole mission was a nightmare from the word go. It all happened so fast.  We couldn't have been caught in that death trap any longer than ten minutes but it was ten minutes of the worst hell I can ever remember being in.  And I've been in a fair amount of hell over the past four years.  Too much.  But this.  This....this was bad.  I don't want to close my eyes and see those blank, staring little faces, hear the dull, dead thuds of the small bodies hitting the stones.  Smell the blood, the death, that sweet, sickening burning....  remember the sound Sam made - see her splayed on those stones like a fractured, lifeless doll.  Her face...God, her face.... 

Children.  Why did it have to be children? 

Woah.  I'm shaking. Gotta come back, get a grip - 

Oh no.  There's General Hammond.  With that 'I really hate to do this at a time like this' look on his face.  God.  We're going to have to talk about this now.  I don't want to \- I'm not ready. Who am I kidding, I'll never be ready to talk about this. Don't want to remember, don't want to talk about it.  Shit. I know.  Have to.  We have to.  They have to know, it has to go down on record. 

Why did it have to be Sam? If I'd been just a little faster, hadn't waited so long to start running toward her - maybe, maybe I could have pulled her out of the way before....before... 

Jack's hand is on my shoulder, clutching it hard as the general starts to speak to us. 

"Colonel, Teal'c, Doctor Jackson," he says in a soothing voice.  "I'm very sorry to have to ask at a time like this.  The formal debriefing is being postponed, of course, but still, I would appreciate - " 

"You need to know what happened," Jack says in a tired, stilted voice. 

"If you could give me a few details, Jack," Hammond continues, sympathetic but still determined.  "We're all deeply concerned about Major Carter's condition, and I know this isn't the best time..." 

"Yes Sir," Jack mumbles in a barely audible voice, then takes a deep breath as he squeezes my shoulder again.  His hand is shaking, and I can feel anxiety spiking through his body.  Oh boy, here we go. 

"You know what the MALP showed us," Jack starts speaking in startling harsh and rough tones. 

I can't look at him.  Can't afford to see what's in his face, his eyes.  The sound of his voice is bad enough. 

"Just the wide stone walkway and a lot of ruined buildings on either side.  The tower was the only thing that looked more or less intact.  That's where we were headed when... when it opened fire on us." 

I feel him start to tremble, for just a fraction of a second.  I want to reach out to him - touch - back him up somehow but I can't move.  He doesn't seem to need it - me - though.  The tremors are gone almost as soon as they begin.  He starts speaking again. 

I don't know how he's managing to utter a single syllable.  My mouth is so dry, my throat so closed up I can barely breathe.  Never mind try to speak.  I know I should say something, shouldn't lay this all on Jack. He shouldn't have to do this alone.  I should say something.  I should. 

"There was some kind of laser doohickey in the tower,"  Jack intones in a weary voice.  "From the amount of pounding the building stood up to I'm thinking it wasn't made of the same stone as the rest of the ruins. It was  probably built much later, actually, and made to look like it was part of what was left of the original complex, although it wasn't. It was fronted by these transport platforms that also looked like they were part of the ruins, but they weren't and they were hell to blow up as well. It was quite a high-tech set-up camouflaged to look like it was nothing special.  No visible threat. The whole thing was a trap and we walked right into it." 

"Do you have any idea why you were attacked without provocation, Colonel?"  the general asks Jack. 

"Not a clue, Sir," Jack grimaces,  "There wasn't exactly a lot of talking going on.  Just shooting.  Lots of shooting. We don't even know who was shooting at us. If they thought we were Goa'ulds or they just don't like visitors period, but whatever - we never got the chance to find out, Sir.  We were too busy trying to get our asses out of there before we were charbroiled." 

"I see," Hammond frowns unhappily.  "So you had no opportunity to conduct any sort of a dialogue with the inhabitants." 

"No Sir," Jack shakes his head.  "I'm not so sure there was anyone there to talk to.  The firing pattern of the tower gun and its response time suggested computer control.  The assault troops were probably beamed in from wherever they were - hanging out - automatically as well, as soon as something tripped the alarm and activated the program.  I think it was a completely automated defence post. Set up specifically to blast whoever walked through the gate who wasn't supposed to." 

"That is likely," Teal'c adds.  "When I was First Prime to Apophis we encountered several such installations on different worlds we attempted to invade.  They performed the same protective function as your iris, allowing the inhabitants to continue to use their own gate freely while deterring incursions from other unwanted travellers.  Authorised travellers would possess some sort of device, not unlike our GDO, to deactivate the sentry upon their return." 

"Nice for them," Jack observes sourly.  "Not so good for us.  There was plenty of evidence they were way ahead of us in weapons technology anyway, and under different circumstances I'd say those transport thingees were rather nifty, but I wouldn't advise anyone to try to go back there.  Not a good idea," he finishes with a slight shudder. 

"So, " Hammond prompts gently.  "The weapon in the tower opened fire on your team..." 

"Yeah," Jack grates.  "We were forced to take cover, and then the tower weapon kept  concentrating its fire on our positions, pinning us down while systematically reducing our cover at the same time.  Once it had forced us to go to ground the transporters started zapping in..." 

All of a sudden he stops talking.  I'm not going to make him face THIS part of it alone. 

"Armed assault troops.  Also apparently on automatic," I tell Hammond quietly.  "They - they were human, but they weren't.  That is - I mean, the bodies were human, but they were wearing these suits, had these bands on their heads.  They were mobile, functional, technically alive, but they definitely moved and reacted as if they were programmed and they didn't display any indication they possessed any form of higher awareness whatsoever.  Their movements, actions, lack of reaction to being - shot - it was like they were walking corpses, sir.  And there's more." 

I have to take a deep breath before I can go on.  Jack's fingers are almost burrowing right into my skin he's gripping my shoulder so tightly. 

"The soldiers...  They - they were all children, sir," I tell Hammond without looking at him. "Around ten or eleven years old, most of them.  From what I could see.  The artificially animated bodies of children.  But no - no minds. No visible conscious will or volition.  They were like - biological machines, with one single purpose.  They were there to kill us.  And they would have, if we hadn't defended ourselves." 

Hammond's face goes stark and grave as he looks at each of us.  He's starting to understand what he's been seeing in all of our faces and the knowledge is bringing him about as much joy as it brought us. 

"We did what we had to do, Sir," Jack says grimly.  "Like Daniel says, we didn't have a choice.  It was us or them. They showed up, started firing at us and there was no way to communicate with them or reason with them. We tried, but it was a no go.  They were there to kill us.  End of story.  They just kept coming. No matter how many we....they just kept coming." 

"I understand, Jack," Hammond says softly.  "I'm sure you did everything you could to avoid having to take such distasteful action.  You were in a terrible situation, but you got your team home safe." 

"That's more due to Daniel than me," Jack grunts.  "While I was busy wasting kid-bots he got to the DHD. He had to run the entire length of the avenue, out in the open and under fire.  Put his ass on the line for all of us.  He went back for Carter too, when she didn't - didn't make it.  He kept her from getting hit again, got her out.  He did good, Sir," 

"I'm sure you all did, Jack," Hammond tells him gently. 

I can't stand to see Jack like this.  Those faces will haunt him for the rest of his life - if he can stand to live with himself.  It wasn't his fault.  There was nothing he could do - nothing any of us could do - except what we did. 

I don't know if this will help.  It's all I can think to offer him.  But I have to try. 

"Jack," I tell him, "we don't know if they ever were really...children.  If they ever had minds or personalities.  We've seen other races - we know the Reetou have mastered cloning techniques. As well as Alar's people.  I noticed there wasn't much variation in the facial features or body types.  Maybe they just....grew the bodies. Without minds.  Maybe they never were 'real' -  were never anything more than mindless biological...robots  to begin with.  Mass produced specifically for - " 

"This is possible," O'Neill," Teal'c adds in perhaps the gentlest tone I have ever heard him use. "There are many races which do indeed possess cloning technology.  The natives of a planet called Ardak create biological automatons of the type DanielJackson is hypothesising whose brains posses no higher cognitive functions whatsoever.  They employ them for slave labour." 

"That still doesn't make it right," Jack mutters bleakly. 

"No, it doesn't," Hammond sighs.  "But you didn't make the choice to create them or to use them as soldiers.  What were your options given the situation, Jack?" 

"Kill them or be killed."  Jack hangs his head.  "So we did what we had to do.  After Daniel took Carter through the gate Teal'c and I were finally able to bring the tower down by concentrating our fire on the base," Jack continues in a mechanical tone.  "It came tumbling down,  destroying the gun and pretty much taking care of the rest of the ground force.  We got the hell out of there before the dust settled." 

Whatever else Hammond might have wanted to ask us is interrupted as Janet walks into the room.  Her eyes are tired and marked with strain, but - she's smiling.  She's smiling. 

"Major Carter is going to be okay,"  she beams at us. 

I slump forward as relief crashes through me so violently I feel like I'm going to be sick.  Most of what Janet is saying is a blur.  I catch something about Sam's pack and vest absorbing most of the force of the blast and saving her life, internal injuries, intensive care, recovery, stable condition.  I'm really not listening to the medical stuff now that I've absorbed she's going to be fine.  That's all I need to know. 

Sam is going to be okay. 

Jack jumps up and starts moving restlessly around the room as soon as he hears the good news.  I feel the loss of him at my side as a wrenching shock, and I struggle to push away the resulting alarming sense of emptiness. It's hard to focus on what Janet is telling us when something inside me is screaming at how much it wants - needs him to be back.  Here.  Close. 

Janet finishes making her report to the general and then turns her attention back to us.  She is assuring us Sam is fine, but she's also heavily sedated and sleeping, and now Janet is saying it's best to wait 'til morning before trying to see her. Jack reacts to that, but doesn't say anything, just keeps on pacing and shooting anxious glances back where Janet has just come from. Hammond is telling us to stand down, to get some rest, we'll deal with everything in a couple of days.  No hurry, no rush.  The gory details will still be there waiting to be reported about in a couple of days. 

Jack isn't making a sound, not looking anyone in the eye, still restlessly pacing and even though we've all been basically politely told to fuck off, I've known him long enough to be able to tell he can't leave.  Not yet.  I know what he has to do and I know why.  What I don't know is why he isn't kicking up his usual fuss and basically insisting he be allowed to do what he needs to do.  At the top of his lungs if that's what it takes. 

This is so not like him.  It's scaring me a little to see him like this.  We're all so far from fine about what we've just been through, and Jack's current behaviour is a very worrying indication he may be having a worse time of it then he's letting on.  I know what he needs right now to ease a little bit of the load and if he can't bring himself to insist, I'm more than happy to do so on his behalf. 

It doesn't take much.  Janet is a much softer touch right now then I was expecting.  But then, she has eyes too.  She grumbles as she leads us to Sam's room, but her protest lacks real conviction.  As do her admonishments to us to be quiet and only be in there with Sam for a few minutes. 

Teal'c takes one look at the both of us, then bows and tells us he will remain outside the door and watch to see we are not disturbed. 

I actually hadn't intended to go in either.  I knew this was something Jack needed to do, but I hadn't wanted to intrude.  In case he had to be alone.  With Sam - for - for whatever reason.  I turn away from him as he opens the door, planning to wait with Teal'c,  but Jack's hand on my arm pulling me in along with him makes my plans to the contrary rather moot. 

The room is eerily quiet.  That is, as quiet as it can be with all the beeping and chirping of the medical monitoring equipment Sam is hooked up to.  Jack lets go of my arm as soon as he sees her and I hang back, lingering at the foot of the bed, watching him as he drifts toward her cautiously like a man trying to swim through a bad dream. 

She doesn't look so good.  If I hadn't just heard Janet say she was going to make it I'd be pretty alarmed by what I'm seeing.  From the stricken look on his face Jack has to be thinking pretty much the same thing. 

She's almost as white as the sheets shrouding her, her skin bloodless and tightly hugging her skull. She's so still she doesn't look real and like me, Jack has to shoot a glance at the monitors to check she is in fact, still breathing. 

She doesn't even look like Sam.  No colour, barely any signs of life, wires, tubes and leads all over her.  But she's alive, and no matter how scary this looks right now she's going to be fine.  Janet said so. 

Jack just stands there and stares at her.  Doesn't move, doesn't even blink.  I wish I could understand what I'm seeing on his face right now.  I suddenly wish I wasn't here to see it.  It somehow feels wrong to me. Like I'm invading his privacy.  Or am about to be entrusted with a secret I don't want any part of.  I know - I know he seems to want me to be here, but - but... 

I don't want to see - don't want to know why he's really here after all. I don't want to see something I've suspected for a long time suddenly confirmed. 

And for the life of me - I don't know why. 

Jack closes his eyes and expels a long, shuddering sigh. His face twists with a grimace of pain, then his head abruptly pivots and he shoots me a searing glance - for a harrowing second so ANGRY.  It's a fleeting, unguarded instant of boiling rage, gone as his eyes focus on me. Then they soften, seem so sad.  The changes in his mood are so extreme and are happening so quickly; I'm completely out to sea. Whatever is tearing him up inside it has something to do with Sam.  And me.  And - and Sam. What happened out there.  I don't know. I'm lost; I've got nothing. I thought the thing with the 'kid-bots' would be tearing him up inside, and somewhere I know it is, but this is something else.  Something worse. 

"Crap," Jack murmurs softly as he shakes his head and then turns his attention back to Sam. He stares at her for a few minutes, a rough smile twisting his mouth, then reaches out a hand, he's going to - I avert my eyes, but can't quite completely look away. I don't want to know and yet - I HAVE to know.  This is insane, I'm losing my mind - I should just get the hell out of here right now.  What's the matter with me?  Why am I so scared? 

Why do I feel like I'm about to lose something, lose...everything? 

Jack's hand hovers over Sam's head. "She looks like hell, but she'll pull through," he observes calmly.  "She's tough. And almost as pig-headed as you." 

Thanks, I think. 

Then he pats the top of her head a couple of times.  Rather - clumsily.  Almost perfunctorily. I blink, confused.  It's not the sort of gesture I was expecting him to make.  Not by a long shot. 

"You disobeyed orders today," he says to me while still looking down at Sam. 

Oh God, Jack.  Not that.  Not now.  "Sorry,"  I mumble as I duck my head and stare at my boots.  I barely have time to start wishing the ground would open up and swallow me when the sudden vehemence of his next comment startles me into looking back up at him. 

"Don't be," he grates, his voice rough and strained.  He's still staring at Sam.  Or is he just not looking at me?  "And don't stop doing it. You can handle yourself.  You made the right call.  You put the team first. I was only thinking about..." His voice falters, he violently clenches his fists.  "I was wrong, not you.  If you'd done what I told you to - she'd be dead right now." 

"I don't understand," I blurt.   Jack sighs and finally turns to look at me.  There's so much sadness in his expression, and something in his eyes he's trying to hide from me.  Regret?  Guilt?  For - for what? 

Now I know this isn't about the children, which makes me even more confused.  Sam is safe.  We all are.  And yet Jack looks like he knows he's done something wrong. But that's not right.  What could he possibly be feeling guilty about?  And why hasn't coming to see Sam made him feel better? 

"I'm trying to tell you I trust you," he continues in a gentler voice.  "I don't always see things as clearly as you do out there.  I forget that sometimes.  I want you to be exactly what you are - to do whatever you know you have to do, even if it means - " 

Jack breaks off; he flushes and shifts his focus back to Sam.  "I'll get a grip on it," he mutters.  "It won't happen again.  I'm sorry, Sam." 

Jack scowls, jams his hands in his pockets, hunches his shoulders and starts to stride briskly toward the door. His face is bleak with determination.  He's buttoned down tight, booking with a vengeance and he looks like he means to walk right through me.  I rouse myself and try to clear out of his path before he flattens me, but I don't quite back-pedal fast enough.  He clips my shoulder with his as he pushes past me, pivoting me back and to the side, and for just a moment, the memory of a similar 'encounter' and the look on his face... the same look he's wearing now...  When he brushed by me on Abydos when he came back to get me like he was trying so hard to not see me and yet... 

There's a sudden, sharp pain in my chest as if something is trying to burst free. Something once clearly known and quickly forgotten.  Something I need to remember. 

Jack tried to walk away from me on Abydos.  Just like he's trying to walk away from me now.  He snubbed me then because he needed....and he didn't want to... 

He didn't want me to know he cared.  What is he trying to keep from me now? 

He's almost to the door.  In another second he'll be out of the room.  I don't know where the words are coming from but I have to say them. He needs me to say them.  He has to hear them.  Now, more than ever. 

"Jack,"  I call to him.  He freezes, his hand on the doorknob.  It seems to take forever for him to turn around, but when he finally does, he has the oddest expression on his face.  Like he knows what's coming and there's nothing he can do to avoid his fate. 

That's \- that's crazy.  I'm still a little freaked, reading way too much into all of this.  Jack's going to take off now, and do his 'lone man avoiding' thing for a bit.  I wish he wouldn't.  I wish he'd just come home with me now and then we could sit around and get plastered and fart and scratch ourselves and do that whole macho 'sneaking up on the nightmare by taking the long way around' guys bonding over avoiding before getting down to it ritual that is the necessary prelude to the whole dealing process.  Getting to it in our own sweet time. 

But he won't.  Not right away.  I'll let him know he can though, when he's ready.  I'll be there for him. Waiting. He - he knows, but sometimes it doesn't hurt to KNOW it, you know. 

"Whatever you need," I tell him sincerely. 

"Okay," he says quietly, his eyes dark and full of secrets.  "I \- I'm gonna take off now.  I'll be by later.  If - if that's all right with you." 

"You know where to find me." 

That makes him smile a little.  "Always," he murmurs, and then slips out the door. 

I stand there and stare at it for a long time. Something - odd \- just happened there. I heard what we both just said, and I have a fair grasp of the English language as well as a few others so I know what the words meant, but still, there was something - odd - about the exchange.  Like there was more being said than I heard. 

Okay, now I know I'm definitely losing it.  It doesn't matter what I did or didn't hear, I meant what I said. Whatever he needs.  We'll work out the details later. 

  

* * *

Teal'c must have been standing outside the door all that time after Jack left, waiting for me to come out.  When I didn't, he came in. 

We're standing side by side, looking down at Sam.  Not talking. Just doing what we need to do for one of our own. 

Teal'c's standing pretty close, and once again, I'm aware of being enveloped in an aura of protective support.  Teal'c practically exudes infinite strength from every pore, and it's very difficult not to feel - bolstered - by his presence. 

It feels very reassuring, like his unspoken support always does, but somehow, so soon after being with Jack, it's not the same.  It's not enough.  Doesn't quite do it for me.  Teal'c's 'I've got you covered', while it is great, and deeply appreciated, just doesn't have that all encompassing, completely reassuring 'safe' I get from Jack.  Teal'c feels like 'I will be here for you'.  Jack - Jack feels like...everything. 

Jack feels like 'You are a part of me'. 

I - I have to go now.  Sam is fine.  She's in the best of hands, couldn't ask for better, she'll be looked after, there's nothing more I can do for her while she's sleeping. Jack needs me.  I don't know where he is right now, but I should be where he'll be expecting to find me. 

"I will remain with Major Carter," Teal'c's deep, quiet voice barely disrupts the stillness. 

I nod, turn and start to shuffle toward the door.  I can feel his eyes on me with every step I take.  Before I leave I pause and look at him one last time. 

"I'll do what I can for Jack," I tell him. 

Teal'c gravely bows his head, his dark eyes glittering with understanding.  "Of that I am certain," he replies. 

I'm barely twenty feet down the hall from the infirmary exit when I hear the general calling my name.  Nuts.  Now what? 

"How are you feeling, Doctor Jackson?" he asks me as he reaches my side. His familiar, comforting presence is tempered by the deep concern he can't hide. 

I can't blame him for feeling that way.  We shared a moment, a few months ago, when I got a unique opportunity to learn a little bit about what it means to be him.  What it feels like for him as he watches us go through that gate and then has to wait and hope we come back again.  All the while having to live with knowing if something happens to us - he's the one who sent us out there. 

He carries an awful lot on his shoulders.  And he cares about all of us, probably a lot more than he should. But he's never ever become such a complete creature of duty it's caused him to lose sight of his own principles and convictions.  He's a good man, the right man for the job and I'm very proud to know him. 

"I'm fine, Sir," I say to him.  "I'm more worried about Jack." 

Crap, I didn't mean to say THAT to him.  But I can tell from the way he suddenly purses his lips I've brought up the very subject he was hoping to broach with me. 

"What you all were forced to do out there - it couldn't have been very easy for any of you, especially the colonel." the general ventures cautiously, eyeing me carefully for my reaction. 

Oh, I'd say that's a pretty accurate assessment.  What happened today was Jack's worst nightmare come to life.  He's a protector.  It's in his blood, bred right into the marrow of his bones.  He lives and breathes to look out for whoever needs him, to take care of the people who are important to him, to defend any and all who can't protect themselves. 

He lives to save the innocent, not to... 

Today he was faced with an impossible choice.  In order to save us he was forced to kill those which everything he is was telling him it was also his duty to protect. An utterly unsupportable conflict of principles.  It has to be tearing him to pieces.  Has to be.  Oh God, where is he?  What is he doing right now?  I wish he hadn't...but then, we're both too much alike that way.  We have to run a bit before we can finally stop and start dealing. 

"I'll talk to him, Sir," I tell Hammond.  I don't want to discuss it any further.  I want to go. 

The general's shoulders sag in a mixture of relief and understanding.  "I know you will, son," he says as he pats me lightly on the back.  "I just want you to know, if it's a little more than you can handle, we're here.  We'll help any way we can." 

I know.  I do.  I know you mean well.  But I also know this isn't something anyone else can help either one of us with. Jack won't go to anyone else.  He won't talk to anyone else. I'm the only one who has the faintest hope of getting him to talk at all. 

I'm the one he'll run to when he finds out he's got nowhere else to go.  He'll run - he's running right now, and then he'll come to me.  I'd better be ready for him, and prepared for whatever it's going to take to get him through this. 

I won't let him down. 


	2. Chapter 2

It's been hours since I ate anything. I think I had breakfast, but I'm not sure. Geez, I can't even remember when I had my last meal; better not let Janet get wind of that! I should probably try to...eat...something. Or not. Even if I had a clue what I want - which I don't - the mere thought of food is making my stomach churn. I don't even want another cup of coffee. I'm wired.

Jumpier than a rabid mongoose, actually. I haven't got a clue what to do with myself. I can't sit still, I can't concentrate, this place is getting to me. The walls are closing in and I can't breathe. I've got to get out of here, but I can't leave. I have to wait for him.

I can't stand this standing around, I want to DO something. There's nothing to do. Nothing I can do but wait. Oh, I could scream around the city trying to find him, but halfway across the universe isn't the only place Jack is very, very good at the 'not being seen' thing. He won't be anywhere anyone could hope to find him when he's in this kind of mood. He'll come in from the cold when he's damned good and ready, and not a moment before.

Which leaves me exactly where I started. Right back to square one. Waiting. Going nuts. Bouncing off the walls of my apartment and trying not to turn into a gibbering, drooling maniac. Screaming, anyone?

This is nuts. I have to calm down. Try to read something. Sit. Fetch. Heel, bark, roll over.

Chill, psycho boy. I have no idea what sort of condition Jack is going to be in when he finally does get here. The last thing he needs is me going off on him, doing some kind of demented 'where the hell have you been' thing all over him, like I'm his wife keeping tabs on him or something. It's just - I've been sitting here for hours. It's the middle of the night and he could be ANYWHERE. Getting pissed to the gills, picking fights with bikers, mouthing off at homicidal maniacs, playing chicken in the middle of the interstate. The memories crawling around in my head are bad enough and all I had to do was get a little exercise and see a lot of stuff I'd rather not have. I didn't actually have to do - what he had to.

Was that a knock on the door? It - it was. It has to be Jack, couldn't be anyone else at this hour. Oh God, he's here! But he's knocking on the door, not using his key. That's - that's not good. He never knocks. Not when he's - not when he's himself.

Jack never stands on ceremony, he just barges in and makes himself at home. Sam and I each gave him a key a few months ago - just in case. I've got his as well. For emergencies. You never know, sometimes stuff happens. At least, it seems to happen to us. As soon as he got my key Jack basically viewed it as carte blanche to butt into my life whenever the mood struck him. I got used to him just showing up and letting himself in. He still manages to scare the crap out of me on a regular basis. He tells me watching me peel myself off the ceiling is one of his reasons for living. I'll be minding my own business, alone in my own living space, or so I foolishly believe, turn around and he's just standing there, grinning at me. How Special Ops trained colonels evidently keep their skulking skills honed and get their kicks at the same time. I faked passing out from shock once just to see if it would teach him a lesson. He threw a glass of really cold water on me. It got ugly. He still just waltzes right on in whenever he feels like it. Mi casa es su casa?

Apparently not tonight, though. Tonight he doesn't feel comfortable enough to just walk in. He's waiting for an invitation. I'm trying not to think about what his reluctance could mean as I scramble quickly over to get the door.

My hands are shaking so badly I can barely work the lock and get the damned thing open. It's Jack, all right. But he sure isn't all right. He's slumped up against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway directly across from my door, glaring at me. His arms folded tightly across his chest, his face dark with dread and hesitation.

I stand in the open doorway and we stare at each other for a minute or two. My mind is a blank - there's so much pain in his eyes it's like a blow to the stomach. He takes in the stunned look on my face and the anguish in him abruptly spikes. He thinks he's seeing - thinks I don't want him here.

"It's late," he growls as he swallows and looks away. "I - I should go."

"You just got here," I reply as I back away from the door, deliberately leaving it open.

He'll come in, but I can't crowd him. Can't rush him either. I just continue backing into the apartment, counting on what brought him here being stronger than whatever else it is he's feeling making him want to turn tail and run.

He's scared! Of what - I have no idea. But he is afraid of something. Of me? That's - that's crazy. Why should he be afraid of me?

He's made it this far. He won't run away now. Even though he's more spooked and desperate than I've ever seen him before.

He sighs, pushes himself away from the wall and stands wavering in the middle of the hall for a couple of seconds. Eyes locked on me, it's plain he wants to, but still is not quite able to bring himself to cross the threshold. It's like the door to my apartment is some kind of line he's dreading stepping over. If he crosses it - if he comes in, he's committed.

Whatever it is he came here for, if he walks through my door there's no turning back.

My, that's disturbingly fatalistic, but then so is the look on Jack's face.

"Come in, Jack," I say to him softly. "I've been waiting up for you."

He grimaces and abruptly peels off his jacket. His movements are rapid, rough, almost self-loathing. He wrings the jacket cruelly in his hands and stares down at his feet, his jaw clenching. Then he makes a strange, almost strangled sound and starts walking toward me.

I don't know what makes me look down at his shoes. They're damp, so are the cuffs of his pants, and a couple of pieces of grass are clinging to them, like what happens when you walk through wet grass that's just been mown and pick up some of the clipping. So Jack's just been walking through some grass. So - so what?

Oh my God. I know where he's been. I don't know how I know, but my head snaps up, our eyes meet and I see it. I know where he's been. Oh God, Jack. How long did you sit there and stare at that headstone?

Charlie. He's been with Charlie.

Jack slams the door behind him, flings his jacket to the floor and glares at me. His face crumbles, he angrily jams the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He's reeking with fear and something darker - dangerous. I just stare at him and watch him trying to bring himself back under control. There's nothing I can say - nothing I can think of to say.

He angrily scrubs his face with his hands and then lifts his head. His face - his eyes. The wrenching bleakness in his expression, the complete lack of hope... I know I was expecting him to be upset - but this is way over the top. And it's wrong. Now that he's here, he should be relaxing, feeling like he can kick back and just get to whatever he needs to, like every other time he's come over needing a shoulder or a place to let off some steam. He knows this is a safe place, he's welcome and we've got no secrets from each other. Never needed them. No secrets... The way he's acting is so off, instead of feeling like he's safe, it's almost as if the reason he's so upset is because he IS here.

Like he doesn't - trust himself? If he stays, it's going to be bad?

I don't understand. Why would he - everything's the same, nothing's changed. It's still the same old place, still me.

It's ME! Whatever he's so afraid of, whatever he's standing there hating himself over, it's something to do with me.

He's shuffling toward me, eyes sliding away from me before our gazes can fully connect. Won't look me in the eye, hasn't said a word, his movements are jerky and reluctant like someone's got a pistol jammed into his back forcing him to advance.

He's coming toward me like he'd rather die than take another step and yet if he doesn't - it's the same thing.

Damned either way.

Something in his expression suddenly makes me think of Abydos. What? Okay, that's the second time I've looked at Jack today and been reminded of Abydos. He was such a different man, back then. A dead man walking. Dead inside, convinced he was damned, going through the motions, just putting in time until he could put an end to it.

He told me once he almost did it. He was already damned and disgraced in his own mind because he'd failed Charlie and Sara, and thought maybe a life for a life would restore the balance somehow. He was sitting in Charlie's room with his gun the day they came to tell him he was being called back to active duty. So, he didn't do it. Because they'd just offered him another way, a better way to atone. He'd redeem himself by going out in a blaze of glory in the service of his country. So Sara would be proud of him again, wouldn't have to hang her head being the wife of such a failure.

As long as the geek genius could crack the code and give him his one way ticket to martyrsville. I didn't let you down, did I Jack? Performed to requirements. Did the job. Gave you what you needed. And that's why you're here right now. You need - you need something from me, but...

Oh - oh God...

He tried to find some peace with Charlie, but it didn't work. He didn't find what he was looking for, there. So, he came here. But coming here is making it worse. He wants acceptance, release, a haven, but he doesn't think he's going to find it. Doesn't believe he's going to get what he wants. Instead, he's going to get what he thinks he deserves. Scorn. Rejection. Confirmation of how despicable he knows he is.

And I'm the one who's going to give it to him. Just like Sara did. Sara....

WHY? What does he think is so terrible that I wouldn't - couldn't? Again, I don't know how I know, but this isn't about what happened out there. That's what's driving him to need - to need to come here, to me, but it's not what he's so afraid of.

This is about me. What he needs from me to get through what happened out there. And what he thinks I'll do when he - when he....

I still don't know what the problem is, but there's only one way to find out, isn't there, Jack?

I meant what I said. Whatever you need. Maybe I don't understand what that means to you right now, but I do know how much you mean to me.

I've made my choice. We're in this together, Jack. Whatever 'this' is. But right now, I think it's up to me to make the first move. The way he's looking like he wants to die Mohammed might not make it to the mountain, sooo....

Besides, I'll admit it. The suspense is killing me too.

It only takes me two long strides to close the gap between us. Jack freezes in surprise as I start to move, flinching when I reach his side.

"Don't," His voice is a barely audible whisper of anguish as he begs me with his eyes. Don't touch him, or don't hate him - I don't know which one he means. It doesn't matter, I'm not thinking this one through, just going with the flow. I feel so calm and sure I know exactly what I'm doing it'd be freaking me a bit if I had time to worry about it.

Maybe later.

I lock my gaze with his, reach up, cup my hand around the back of his neck and carefully lower his head to my shoulder. He stiffens at my touch, but doesn't try to resist.

He starts to shake as I cradle his head and pull him closer to me. His hands come up, he presses them against my chest and I can feel his arms quivering with tension. He's fighting with himself, so close to pushing me away and yet he doesn't and I just hold him there, stroking the back of his head, trying to calm him. He's trembling like a skittish colt, caught on the edge of wanting to bolt and letting himself be comforted.

See, Jack? This isn't so bad. You can relax. You don't need to be afraid.

His hands clench angrily on my chest. He groans, a hopeless, heart-rending sound and then his shoulders sag. His arms wrap around me, he crushes me so tightly to him I can hardly breathe, he turns his face into my neck and sobs.

It's all right, Jack, it's all right. Everything's going to be fine.

I hug him close and try to soothe him as his body heaves with tears that won't break free. His hands are fiercely fisted in my shirt and then they open and start to move across my back. Slowly stroking, feeling, the arcs they're describing getting bigger, firmer, then getting bolder, more demanding, roaming hungrily, fingers clutching, needing. He's breathing harder, his breath hot, harsh and gasping against my throat as his mouth sears the skin, nuzzling, seeking, wetly sucking, desperately tasting.

Jack's KISSING me - kissing my neck, feeling me like he wants...He wants to make love to me. That's what he wants. THAT'S why he thinks...

OHHHHH!

He loves me. Jack's in love with me. He wouldn't be here - wanting this - wanting ME if he didn't, he's not that kind of man. I honestly didn't know, not until this very second and yet, now that I do - there were so many things I saw but didn't SEE that are all making sense, now. Making perfect sense. How could I not have known - how could I have been so blind? Oh Jack, I'm so sorry! How long have you felt like this? How long have you kept this secret?

And how do I let you know no matter what you think, this doesn't change a thing. Okay, maybe it does, what am I saying, I guess it changes EVERYTHING, but not - not the way I care about you and respect you - and - and - OH! OH GOD!

His hands have dropped to my buttocks, clamp fiercely, he pulls me abruptly forward, hard, as he rocks his pelvis roughly into mine and I FEEL him, engorged with urgent need crushing against me...

I can't help it. It's one thing to know, another to feel - to KNOW. I cry out with the incredible shock of the contact. It's so intense, so unexpected, so overwhelming.

So....exciting... Woah...

Jack freezes at the sound of my strangled gasp. He doesn't move, doesn't make a sound, just slumps wearily against me, waiting.

Waiting for me to push him away with shock and disgust.

I'm shaking too as I take his face in my hands, lift his head up from my shoulder so I can look into his eyes. He hasn't let go of me, his hands are still clamped to my ass, our groins glued together. The resulting sensations racing through me are making it a little hard for me to focus. Not just from what I'm feeling, but from what it's doing to me. Which was the last thing I expected, it's true, but I'm open.

Also, it would seem, becoming incredibly aroused by being touched by my best friend. My, oh my...

Jack's eyes are stinging with tears he can't shed. He blinks with the pain as his naked, helpless gaze meets mine. His is the face of the lost and hopeless as he waits for the only fate he expects.

Now you know. His eyes scream their shame at me.

I do indeed. I know how he feels. I know what he wants. It's not just - physical. This isn't about sex, although he wants that too. It's more. Much more than that. Jack wants ME. Body and soul. He wants me to want him, to accept him, to - to - knowing everything I know about him, every terrible thing he's done, the most terrible to date being to fall in love with his best friend.

He wants to love me and he wants me to let him.

I can do that for him. It's a bit of a shock as I realise it, but what are my choices, really? Will I or won't I? Bit of a no-brainer. Saying yes means - well, I know what it means, but weighing my sensibilities against the alternative - what it will do to him if I spurn him, especially when he's so strung out from expecting exactly that - not an option. Saying no to Jack right now will destroy him. I can't hurt him like that. Maybe I've never done anything like this before, but this is Jack we're talking about. He's my best friend, the most important person in the world to me. I trust him with my life, he's laid his own life on the line for me, so many times. After everything we've been through together, the things we've seen and done, the way he's been there for me, how can I say no?

Especially since I've pretty much already said yes. He just hasn't heard me yet. Better start talking a little louder.

I brush my thumb across his cheek. He blinks in surprise, his certainty of my contempt wavering. I've never done anything like this before - never even CONSIDERED doing anything like this before, well, maybe in an abstract moment of curiosity, once or twice, but then, hasn't everybody? Even if they don't admit it. He does have a rather amazing mouth, that lower lip so lush and full, I've always been fascinated by the shape and sometimes I've been looking at it and there's been a moment or two when I've...wondered... Uh...where was I? Kissing Jack. I'm going to kiss Jack. I can do this. Lips are lips. If I close my eyes, what's the difference?

I can do this. I - I want to do this. He loves me, and he's been suffering because of it. He means more to me than I can say. I would do anything for him. Anything. Even this.

I lean slowly forward and touch my mouth to his. Barely touching, tentative and yet surprising. It feels pretty - nice - and I've given a little moan of astonished delight before even realising it. Jack surges toward me at the sound, grinding his mouth into mine, turning tentative into tempestuous before I can catch my breath. He's devouring my mouth, his hands are delving under my shirt, scorching my skin, I gave him an opening and oh God, is he taking it.

I'm not complaining. He's a good kisser, really - really good. Amazing, actually, but - but I'd like to go a little slower, is all, get used to the sensations, adjust. I like what I'm feeling, it's a little surprising, but good, if I like it, even better, it's not just for Jack, easier to do it if it's good for both of us. Feels good, his hands, touching me, his tongue scraping the back of my throat, I'm responding, becoming aroused, I CAN do this, wasn't really sure when I started, but it's happening. I'm getting into it.

Jack, however, has a big head start. Also evidently a much firmer grasp on what he wants. It gets much firmer, he'll be leaving bruises.

Oh God, wait a minute - Jack, slow - slow down. I need a minute. I can't breathe. He's coming on so strong, he's all over me so passionately, so - so forcefully I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. Pushing against me - pushing me, pushing me back. Too fast. It's happening too fast.

Jack?

My shirt is gone, his too. He's still frantically kissing me, butting into me, pushing me urgently toward the couch as his fingers fumble with my belt. Too fast, he's going too fast, it's all happening so fast. I feel like I'm being consumed by his passion. Lost in it, drowning in his desire. My mind is exploding with sensations, reeling with confusion, I'm on a rollercoaster careening out of control while I was thinking Ferris Wheel.

Jack's gone mental and he's taking me with him.

He sends me sprawling on the couch and ruthlessly strips the rest of my clothes from my body. I'm gasping, reeling, trying to keep up. Suddenly, what's happening is scaring me a little. This is a side of Jack I've never seen before and if I wasn't so terrified right now I'd be laughing at what is possibly the most ABSURD statement I've ever made.

I'm okay with this. I am. Oh God, not going to freak. I guess asking for a time-out is out of the question. Guess I should have thought of that before I let the genie out of the bottle. He's OUT now, and I'm - I'm -

Oh well, I've made my bed, now all I can do is get...laid.

OhgodohgodohgodohGOD!

Jack hurls his naked, thrusting body on top of me and absolute panic grips me as he pins me flat. I can't help it, it's too much, he's too heavy, too horny, oh God, what's he doing? He's - he's humping me! I didn't think this through. I- I've changed my mind. I can't - I have to get up from under him, NOW. I buck up against him, trying to push him off me and he cries out my name, starts kissing the side of my neck and my jaw as he mindlessly rams me into the cushions in an orgiastic frenzy.

I just close my eyes and hold on. It's too late. It's already gone too far. He's already too far gone. He's past being able to help himself or stop what he's doing and I can't - I won't - I won't let him know I'm scared. I won't spoil this for him or let him think I don't want this as much as he does. I - I do. I would have if I'd had a little more time, if it wasn't happening so fast. I'm not sorry I started this. Not. I'm not I'm not I'm not.

I hold him close to me as he shudders and sobs his release into my neck, kiss his head as the shock of warm stickiness shoots across the skin of my belly. It's okay, it's over. We got through this. It wasn't so bad. He'll feel better, now. So will I. I just need a minute.

Jack collapses on top of me, gasping and sobbing into my chest. I hold him tight, and try to fight down my own tears. I don't know what I'm feeling right now. But that doesn't matter because I feel tears, real tears, Jack's tears on my chest. He's finally letting it go, releasing the horror and loathing, he'll start to come clean now.

I've done him good. That's all that matters. I was able to give him what he needed. What it means...I'll - I'll sort it out later. I'll deal with this later. Later.

I do know he still means everything to me. That's a good place to start. No regrets. I won't let him ever think or know -

"I'm sorry," Jack snuffles sheepishly into my chest as he shifts his weight off me and starts to gently caress me. "I kinda lost it on you."

I can't say anything. Emotion is roiling around in my chest and I try to gulp it back down before I - before I...

His hand trails lightly down my heaving, sticky abdomen until it comes to rest atop my flaccid penis.

"You didn't come," he whispers, his voice gentle, caring, concerned. I bite back a sob as his fingers curl reverently around me, softly touching, stroking. "Awww, Danny, it wasn't supposed to be like this."

"I'm sorry," he tells me again as he starts to nuzzle his lips against my chest. Kissing me lightly, tenderly, with evident appreciation. "I shouldn't have been so nuts, but you don't know how long, how goddam long I've wanted to do this, to touch you like this, to FEEL you. You feel so good." His fingers are feathering lightly across my groin, exploring, gently coaxing, so gentle, so respectful, relaxing...,nice, His touch is making me tingle, his lips working softly against my skin, making me.... I'm getting...I'm feeling better, this is better, more my speed.

"Oh God, Danny," he groans. "You have no idea what you do to me."

Oh I dunno, I think I'm getting warm. The apology is really helping.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." Licking, he's licking me now. Long, lingering swipes of his tongue on my skin, making me shiver and what he's doing down there....ohhhhh..... I close my eyes and just sink into the sensations he's evoking within me. He's so careful, so concerned. Every tender touch speaking more eloquently what he feels for me than mere words could ever hope to.

Kissing me now. Mmmmmmm. Nice and slow. I like it slow. I like this. Kissing. Slow and long and deep and ohhhhh, this is better. Much, much better...

"This wasn't just about sex, you know," he murmurs as his mouth caresses me. "I would never - you - you know. Be that way with you."

I know. I do. I - I did. I do. I got caught off-guard by how MUCH he wanted me, but he meant me no harm. And no harm was done. I may have been in over my head for a bit, but I was always safe. I feel that, know it now. I'm with Jack. He's still Jack. Still the decent, caring human being I've always known him to be. Even if he can't see himself that way sometimes.

He's still the man I'd do anything for. As he would for me. And we're still - us. We came together all those years ago, have had this bond, this - this connection that was always there. We never felt the need to question it, it was what it was and so were we. It never needed a name, but maybe now it has one. And we still don't have to say it for it to be exactly what it is.

I've shared everything with him, life, death, joy, hardship, disappointment, expectation, grief, hope - maybe this was inevitable. The next, logical step, the only thing left that we hadn't shared. The last line we had to cross in order to be everything we could be to each other. Like we were always meant to be?

After all, who else is there? When I think about the future, years down the road, every time I've wondered who I'd want standing beside me for the rest of whatever is to come, his face is the only one I see. The only one I WANT to see.

I guess that should have told me something. That's okay, I think I get it now.

"I know you let me - you did this for me," Jack breathes into my ear as he kisses the side of my face. "You didn't - you don't feel the same way I do and yet you did this for me. Thank you. I don't deserve this. Don't deserve you. I don't know why you - you let me - "

"I do," I interject with a sudden, blazing surge of conviction. I do. I know why I did everything. Why I'd do it again, without a moment's hesitation. Whatever he wants, whatever he needs, again and again and again.

Oh God, definitely again.

I grab his neck and kiss him hard and then I tell him why, the words flying out of me as bliss swells within me like something else is swelling and throbbing as he pumps and I thrust up helplessly in response. I'm getting lost again, but this time it's good. My body is starting to convulse uncontrollably with the pleasure he's giving me. The touch of his hands, the feel of his mouth on my skin. Tongue. Oh...God...tongue....

Not happening too fast this time. Definitely not. And good. It feels really, really good.

He chuckles. "Like that, do ya?" Jack grins as he curls his tongue around my other nipple. Jack's no linguist, but he takes the yes, God YES gist of my slightly strangled gurgle of response.

"Let's see what else you like, shall we?" he smiles malevolently at me as he licks his lips.

"Knock yourself out," I manage to gasp before I start screaming.

 

It's going to be morning soon. Brand new day a'dawning. Whole new ballgame looming on the horizon. Not to mention sound asleep and drooling on my chest.

This is a first. I'm lying in my bed, and I'm not alone. The first time I've been able to say that since I got the bed. I'm not just 'not alone', I'm lying in my bed with my best friend. Who fell asleep in my arms after giving me not one but several of the most shattering orgasms I've ever experienced in my life.

Seeing as how neither one of us does casual I guess this is going to require us to slightly re-evaluate our relationship.

I can't help it. Calling Jack my lover still sounds...weird, but after what we did tonight I don't think either one of us can go back to just warm handshakes, slaps on the back and stupid nicknames.

If it was up to me, I'd pass on the whole nickname thing because from now on, they're just going to get worse. Not only are they going to be stupid, they're going to be sappy as well. It's the only downside to this new - understanding - between us I can see right now, so I suppose I shouldn't complain. Mind you, I do have my limits. He calls me baby and he's sleeping on the floor.

Omigawd, JACK'S ASLEEP IN MY BED! A part of me still needs to freak about it for a little while, but not much longer. The rest of me, most of the rest of me...we're okay. Jack couldn't have tried harder to make up his earlier - impetuousness - to me. In fact, he's barely let me touch him at all, he was so determined to make it up to me. He's licked practically every inch of me - several times, and I've got a whole new respect for and fascination with his mouth. Whew. I've come so many times I'm wondering if I'm going to be able to walk.

He didn't have to be quite so attentive. I know he never meant me to think this was just a one off. A little stress relief. That's not the way Jack operates. I know how much he cares for me. That's why it was so hard for him to come to me in the first place. He had no reason to think I'd want him. He's been holding onto this secret for a long time, living with wanting something he never believed he could have, being my friend without letting his desires impinge upon the respect he held for me. He would have continued to keep his secret if what happened on P7C-414 yesterday hadn't pushed him over the edge.

I'm glad. Not - not for what happened on the planet, but that it finally drove him into my arms. He's here, now. In my bed. In my arms.

Jack's my lover. My best friend and my lover. Lover. Jack is my lover. You know, the more I say it, it doesn't sound so weird. It sounds...nice.

Feels nice too.

"Wha - where?" Jack startles me as he snaps abruptly awake and reacts violently to some very unfamiliar surroundings and circumstances. Panic flares briefly in his eyes; he doesn't know where he is or who he's with and for a split second I think he's going to leap up out of bed howling for his P-90. Then he looks down, sees me, sees it's me and freezes, an agonised look of uncertainty on his face. I smile at him and reach up to touch his cheek. He heaves a vast sigh of relief at the small gesture of reassurance, then grins wickedly and drops his head back down on my chest. Right in the middle of the wet spot.

"Ewwww!" he groans as he swipes at the drool with the palm of his hand. "Can you NOT sleep with your mouth OPEN? That's disgusting," he grumbles.

"Whatever you say, it's your drool, not mine," I gently tease. "As bodily secretions go, it's not too bad. It's less disgusting than other things you could be dribbling on me."

"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you don't have the soul of a poet, Doctor Jackson," Jack ripostes as he rolls off me. "It's a relief to know I won't be drowning in a sea of sentimentality."

"Pot calling the kettle black," I snort at him. "Sap is your middle name."

"Yeah, well, just don't spread it around, will ya?" he peers at me with mock severity. "I've got a hard-assed reputation to protect."

I must be feeling a little sappy myself, I just let that one go.

His expression is very serious now, and full of concern as he reaches over to brush his fingers across my cheek. "You - okay with all this?" he asks softly. His eyes saying clearly, 'tell me the truth'.

"Yeah," I reply, giving him exactly what he asked for. "I'm fine."

"And - and we're..."

"We're fine."

"We are?" his grin is brighter than a kid's on Christmas morning.

"Yeah."

"O-KAY!" Jack crows as he leaps on top of me. "Wanna take a shower?" he leers as he waggles his eyebrows suggestively at me. "I'll scrub your ass - BACK - I mean - back for you."

Yep, I could definitely get used to this. In no time at all.

 

"OW!" Jack yowls as he sulkily nurses the hand I've just slapped.

"Serves you right," I remorselessly inform him. "Go get your own chocolates. I brought these for Sam, not you."

Sam's eyes are sparkling with mischief as we exchange glances. "That's okay, Daniel,' she begins as she reaches toward the box. "I don't mind sharing. Besides, Sir," she says innocently as she plucks a chocolate from the box. "Every one you eat, that's just one less temptation for me." She shrugs and pops the chocolate into her mouth.

Jack sneers at me, thinking he's been vindicated as he sidles back up to the box to help himself once more.

But Sam isn't quite finished with him yet.

"I really shouldn't eat any of these," she grins ruefully. "They're SO good, but I've got to watch my girlish figure, you know. Stuff like this - straight to the hips. I guess you're not as concerned about...expanding universes, huh, Colonel?" she finishes as she gives his butt a pensively assessing once over, her serious scowl clearly conveying the impression she's not impressed with what she's seeing.

Sam, I could kiss you! On second thought, maybe later. Jack's ego has already taken a fairly stiff blow, no need to provoke him any further. I won't, however, apologise for thoroughly enjoying the moment.

Jack's hand jerks back from the box like he's been stung. Repelled by a very large ego bee. He cranes his neck sharply around, trying to get a look at what Sam is shaking her head sorrowfully at and only succeeds in turning himself about in a swift circle like a dog chasing his tail. Which makes a pleasant change from his current full time obsession with chasing mine.

His slightly overweight tail, if the astrophysicist's estimation is to be believed. Having just seen that 'tail' myself quite recently au naturel, I could put Jack's mind at ease about the state of his ass's universe. I could. But I'm not going to.

A little insecurity is good for him. Teaches him humility. Is really, REALLY fun to watch.

Hey, I can be as petty as the next person. I'm just really sneaky about it. With that surface layer of 'sweet and nice' they never see me coming. With the obvious exception, of course.

"I am not fat!" Jack finally blusters indignantly once he stops spinning. He glares at the three of us, daring us to dispute him. We say nothing. He crosses his arms huffily across his chest and retreats slightly with a suspicious sniff. The chocolates remain manifestly unmolested.

Sam looks so much better. She's got a little more recuperation time in the infirmary ahead of her, but it's just so good to see her awake, alert, laughing and smiling and clearly on the mend.

So damned good to see her alive.

Teal'c has hardly left her side since she got out of surgery. He's been right there, lending a hand any way he saw one was needed. Jack and I have tried to drop in on her as frequently as we could over the past few days. Jack's still a little uncomfortable around her. Still feeling a little guilty. I'm beginning to understand why. What he was trying to tell me, when we were here before, at her side, just the three of us. I'm pretty sure I know what he thinks he did.

We haven't dealt with it yet, but we will. It's all part of this new thing that's 'us', now. We're still feeling our way around, discovering new things, finding out what we both want and need. And it isn't all about the bedroom, although, admittedly, to be honest, the last few days - we haven't exactly gotten out much. Which has been just as much my idea as his. Maybe more. I wasn't quite ready the first time, but I've adjusted. Uh huh. Catching on really quick. Jack's the one not knowing what he's let loose these days. We've both had a lot of downtime over the past four years, more than making up for lost time, and okay, he's hot. I'm not thinking about much else but him, and his butt and his mouth and his hands and his -

Okay, enough of that. We're supposed to be here visiting Sam, not - get your mind out of the gutter for thirty seconds, slut boy. Who knew I was such a mutt? I'll die before I admit it to Jack, though. He's getting too big for his britches as it is.

I'm doing it again, aren't I?

"So Daniel, how's your arm?" Sam asks as she licks her fingers, eyes the box, smirks at Jack and then winces a bit as she tries to settle back in bed and evidently hits a sore spot. Teal'c is instantly right in there rearranging the pillows propping her up until she can comfortably and painlessly recline. Sam gives him a grateful look before continuing. "Janet said you took some stone shrapnel while you were saving my butt. Did I thank you for that, by the way?"

Jack is muttering something as he sidles up to me. He's up to no good. I can see it in his eyes. When his hand sneaks around and ends up on my ass his intentions are no longer in question.

"You'd do the same for me," I shrug. "I'm fine, Sam," I reply, ignoring the hand which has ceased to perch and is starting to roam. "It was nothing, really. Just a few scratches."

"That's good," she sighs. "It was rough for a while back there, though, wasn't it?" she continues, giving each of us a steady look. "Just before Daniel got the gate open I was almost thinking we weren't going to make it."

"You're not the only one," I admit quite truthfully.

"Didn't happen," Jack states firmly as he gives my right cheek a pat. "We're good at what we do. Better than them. We're here, aren't we?"

"Sir, I've been thinking about those....soldiers," Sam says as she watches Jack's face closely for his reaction.

"The kid-bots?" his smile fades and he makes a dismissive gesture with his free hand. "What about 'em?"

"I'm thinking they probably weren't actual - children. That is, they weren't at one time kids who were taken and turned into - uh - kid-bots, like the Goa'uld harvesting humans and turning them into hosts. I'm sure they were clones, and if that is the case their bodies were probably genetically manipulated to present an immature, youthful appearance even though the bodies themselves had to have completed the growth process. It's also not likely they possessed any higher cognitive functions, in fact their brains could be - "

"Uh, thanks Major," Jack interrupts with false brightness. 'I get the picture. Daniel already suggested something along those lines. You're probably both right. There's no way we're ever going to know 'cause we're sure as hell not going back there and in any case, it's all over and done with."

Maybe the deed, but not the aftermath. Dealing with what happened back there is going to be a process for all of us. We're not going to get past it overnight, but we will, eventually. We're making a beginning, all four of us, and being together again and knowing it's just a matter of time before we're all back in the traces and heading out into the unknown as a team once more is helping to put a lot of the ghosts to rest.

We will get through this. All of us. We're a team and we face everything that happens to us out there together. This is no different. As long as we've got each other, we've pretty much got everything we need.

We've already made a fair start, each one finding their own unique expressive outlet for working things through. Teal'c? Well, Teal'c serves. He's been the indefatigable and completely willing extension of Sam's every whim. She doesn't need to lift a finger, she's got Jaffa support.

Sam's been eating. I've known her for four years and never once suspected she has been concealing this secret sugar addiction. Sweet tooth doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm seeing lots of 'you've got to keep them away from me, Daniel' moments in my future. Hah! I could tell her a little bit about secret, insatiable cravings at the moment.

Jack's opting for being bad. He's very good at being bad, and right now he's being positively outrageous. And he's just getting warmed up.

He's not the only one.

I suddenly find myself wishing I could appeal to the remainder of my team to help me deal with my most immediately pressing problem. Who is pressing into my side, smiling smugly, so proud of himself as he's copping a surreptitious but extensive feel right under Sam and Teal'c's oblivious noses.

You are SO pushing it right now. Cocky bastard. Don't you try that innocent 'who me?' grin on me!

"I hope you guys haven't been too bored while the team is stood down," Sam sighs as she nestles her head back more comfortably into her pillow. Teal'c solemnly reaches for the box of chocolates, which is now out of her reach, and offers it to her with a flourish. She grins at him, but shakes her head, and he returns it to the bedside table with his usual, slightly intimidating grace. He cocks an eyebrow at us and then turns his attention back to Sam as she poses her questions.

"So tell me what's happening, guys," she says as she stifles a yawn. "The way you've been popping in and out, you must be keeping pretty busy. The general keeping you hopping? What've you been up to? Fill me in."

"Oh, ya know, same old same old." Jack shrugs deprecatingly. "Daniel's speaking in tongues, trying to lick a whole new language, and you know Dannyboy, I can't make him stop when it starts to come," Jack's got a grin happening that would make the Cheshire Cat green with envy. "I've been trying out a little cuppage." Jack momentarily leaves off groping me in order to have both hands free for graphically illustrating his point. He uses them to describe a perfect butt in the air before an innocent face and a bemused audience. Then without missing a beat he drops his right one down between us, snakes it quickly around my back and commences molesting me again.

"I'm experimenting with a new technique, really pushing my boundaries as an artist," he explains earnestly.

I'll say. What he's doing with that hand is definitely pushing it. Oh my...

"I'm still kinda new to this, still feeling my way, if you will, but I gotta say, it takes a lot of concentrated attention, careful smoothing and repeated moistening to keep the material malleable enough to withstand repeated handling, and just when I think it's all coming together perfectly, it goes to pieces on me completely."

I can relate. I'm suddenly thinking about expanding universes again. I can't imagine why. All I know is if he doesn't stop handling THIS material...

"After putting in all that time and effort, the last thing I want is premature firing. Or worse, a limp handle," he beams. "I'm getting better though. The key is preparation, preparation, preparation. It's all in the balls," he adds solemnly.

You're damned lucky I don't give it to YOU in the balls. Cuppage, my ass. Oh God, now he's got me doing it too!

It's time to pull my nuts out of the fire before Sam and Teal'c get visual confirmation of just how good Jack is with his hands.

He yelps as I step on his instep. Hard. "JE-sus! Daniel! Watch where you're walking, will ya?"

"Oh, sorry, Jack," I flutter my eyes innocently at him, and he gnashes his teeth. "That was careless of me. But then, you know me, Doctor Klutz. Accident waiting for a place to happen. Don't know my left foot from my right or my ass from my elbow."

He didn't have any complaints about my manual dexterity or flexibility last night but he's hardly in a position to say so.

"Guys?" Sam shifts her gaze back and forth between us, a slightly suspicious frown quirking her lips. She's listening between the lines like crazy and knows there's SOMETHING going on with the two of us, but evidently decides she's more tired than curious. "I really appreciate you stopping by to check on me, but all this bonding is wearing me out. I think I'd like to get some sleep."

"Very well, Major Carter," Teal'c bows slightly. "It is time for me to engage in Kel'no'reem. I will return when you have rested."

"I'll bring those journals you wanted," I tell her as I feel Jack's hand close on my arm.

"A whole box of Twinkies," Jack winks at her. "Mum's the word." I think he's still got it in for her about the expanding universe thing.

"What's the matter with you?" I chide him as I pull my arm out of his clutches, pointedly stopping him from towing me down the hall in his wake.

"What?" he feigns surprise. "You're not into aural sex?"

"And that's the last time you touch me below the belt while we're on base," I scold him fondly. "I thought we talked about this."

"In the sense you talked and I pretended to listen, we did," Jack grumbles. "Aw, lighten up! I was just having a little fun. No one could see anything. I knew it would bug you. Sue me."

"Wouldn't be worth it," I snort. "I've seen what you've got. But I will come and visit you in Leavenworth. If I haven't got anything better to do."

"Okay," Jack mutters, and then pouts for several paces. "So, where we going tonight, your place or mine?"

"Yours, I think," I answer after a moment's consideration. "You'll be more comfortable waiting there. I have some work to do on base - don't give me that look - the United States Air Force doesn't keep me on staff here simply to make it more convenient for you, they do expect me to put out from time to time. I have to finish working on that tablet from P2B-382. The general is waiting on my report. He needs to know if the term 'God Stone' they use in the text is the local name for Naquadah, and if it's worth sending out a mineral survey team to investigate."

"Work, work, work," Jack sighs theatrically. "Is that all you ever think about?"

Wild horses with a ribbon device couldn't drag the truth out of me. I decide to turn the tables on him.

"I could ask you the same question. Is THAT all YOU think about?"

"You're kidding me, right?" He flashes me a rakish grin. "What else is there?"

I'm thinking this isn't a rhetorical question. I'm also utterly terrified he could be right.

"How long - " Jack frowns.

"As long as it takes." I finish. "I'll come over when I'm done."

"Well, don't be all night or I'm starting without you."

The sudden mental image that statement gives me is remarkably distracting. Not to mention...stimulating. I'm so - distracted - I almost don't hear his next question.

"Still got the key for my place?"

"Yeah."

"You're the only one I gave it to, you know," he says softly.

No, I didn't know that. I'd just assumed...

He abruptly throws me off balance by swiftly reaching over and roughly ruffling my hair. "You didn't say anything about touching ABOVE the waist!" he crows. " Hurry home, baby," he grins.

"DON'T call me baby!" I hiss.

"Pookie?"

"Bastard!"

"Lambie-pie?"

"Prick."

"Snookums?"

"Jerk."

"You forgot 'asshole,'" Jack jeers.

"I was getting around to it." I mutter.

"I was going to bring up that up later - about you getting around to it, that is. I think it's time we upped the ante a little, just to make things more interesting," Jack smirks as he starts to saunter down the hall away from me. 'What do you say, are you in?"

I'm so in I'm about thirty seconds away from telling George he can damned well do his own translating, I've got bigger fish to fry.

Damn, when was the last time I ate, anyway? Thursday? Does whipped cream count?

"Can we do something a little different tonight and maybe actually eat something first?" I ask him. "Just a thought."

"Sure," Jack waves a casual hand at me, "Before, after, during, whatever, I'm easy."

"That's not news." I have to shake my head as I watch him confidently saunter out of sight. No, you're not. You're not easy at all, Jack. But I wouldn't have you any other way.

FINIS


End file.
